


The Failed Master

by bpacc437



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Digestion, I Know This Doesn't Make Sense Just Roll With It, Licking, M/M, No sex just vore, Rape/Non-con Elements, Soft Vore, Vore, Weight Gain, Whoops I wrote vore again, why am i like this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:08:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27854806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bpacc437/pseuds/bpacc437
Summary: Grimm is summoned to meet the Nightmare King after failing to conduct a Ritual. The Nightmare Heart needs to be fed somehow, after all.
Relationships: Grimm/Nightmare King Grimm (Hollow Knight)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 18





	The Failed Master

Grimm shudders as he walks into the Nightmare King’s chamber. Above him beats the Nightmare Heart, scarlet light pouring out its eyes and the holes in its stitching. Despite this being the place of his creation, it always makes the Troupe Master uncomfortable. Mostly because he never comes here unless he’s meeting with him. Grimm shook his head, trying to clear it of the tangled, muddy thoughts that swallowed it. 

The mere sight of the Nightmare King gave Grimm the shivers. He didn’t retain the exact memories of his past lives, but he did remember the sensations, the senses, the general feel of things. And the feeling that all of his past predecessors gave him of this man was downright terror. Part of that made sense - he was the King of Nightmares, after all. But there was something deeper than that. More primal, as if bubbling up from the primordial depths of his being. 

The King hadn’t done anything terrible to him, but that sense of low terror was ever present when talking with him. And today, that sense rang greater than it ever had been before. Mostly because, Grimm knew, this was not going to be a pleasant meeting. He’d been unable to conduct a Ritual for so long that the Nightmare Heart was in danger of dying out. It wasn’t entirely his fault. His dance partners as of late had been unsatisfactory, with each and every one of them being incapable of finishing the Ritual. They all either gave up or ran away, forcing the Troupe to move elsewhere. 

But he knew he’d mismanaged his time. He didn’t spend anywhere near as much time Ritual hunting as he’d been instructed to, and now he was paying the price. He swallowed, and hoped that whatever speech the King had in store for him wouldn’t be overlong. 

Then, all at once, the front of the Nightmare Heart opened in a blast of scarlet fire. In a moment, the King dropped from the opening to the ground below, and then crossed the ground so that he was only a foot or two away from the Troupe Master. The King is a head taller than the Troupe Master, and noticeably chubbier. 

His gut protrudes from his form, a form that is more than a bit rounder than the Master’s. When he spreads his cloak open, Grimm sees that the Nightmare King’s legs are much rounder than his own too, especially his thighs. He’s noticed this before, but he’s never thought anything of it. He assumes it just must be the Nightmare Heart keeping him well fed. 

So, he stands up straight, and asks plainly, “Nightmare King, why have you summoned me here tonight?” 

The King, in response, grins and closes the space between himself and the Troupe Master. When he’s close enough that he could simply reach out and grab the Master, he replies, “Oh, you know the reason. You’ve failed to execute your duties as the Troupe Master, and now the heart is malnourished. It’s desperate for some sort of nutrition.” 

The Master sighs, and tries to take a step back. In response, the King just takes another step closer to him. “Yes, well, I know that I haven’t executed them well. But I assure you, give me just a bit more time, and I will-”

Reaching his arms around Grimm, the King continues, “Oh no, no, no. You don’t understand it, my friend. It needs immediate nourishment - and only the finest will do.” 

Grimm wriggles within the King’s grasp. “What- what is the meaning of this? Unhand me! And what nourishment?” 

At this, the King reaches out his tongue and runs it across Grimm’s terrified face. Before the Master can process what’s happened, the King says, “I am the embodiment of the Nightmare Heart. If it cannot be fed directly with the flames of fallen Kingdoms, then I can be fed with something of equal power to prolong its lifespan instead. What, do you think here, is of equal power to something like that?” 

Grimm stares stunned for a full minute, before screaming out and breaking away from the Master. He stumbles to his feet, and turns to face his attacker. “No, NO! You will not devour me like some macabre treat!” Grimm raises his cloak and fires a series of fire bats at the King. In response, the King simply shakes his head in disappointment, and snaps his fingers. 

In a moment, the bats flare out of existence. “Tsk, tsk, Troupe Master. You should know that I hold all the power here. Just submit to me - it’ll make this all much easier.” 

Grimm flares up with rage at this, stabbing his cloak into the ground. The tendrils erupt all around the King, but they are easily brushed away by a slice of the King’s own cloak. “How feisty! You’ll make a wonderful treat indeed,” taunts the King. 

The Troupe Master scrambles to come up with a plan, to find some unconventional way to escape this nightmare he’s found himself in. But in that moment of hesitation, the King warps over to him, and thrusts him to the ground. The King pins Grimm down to the floor, restraining him with his tendrils. “Fiend! Release me this instant!” cries the Troupe Master as he struggles impotently against his bindings. 

The King grins at this. “Now, why would I do that? You’re all spread out and prepared for me now, the excellent snack that you are.”

“I AM NOT A SNACK! I AM THE MASTER OF THE GRIMM TROUPE, NOT SOME SLAB OF MEAT!” 

At this, the King again licks Grimm’s face, before dragging his tongue down his slim midsection. “Then why do you taste so excellent, morsel?” 

Grimm opens his mouth to shout a word of rebellion at this, but a tendril forces itself into his gaping maw, gagging him. The King, beaming, drags his tongue all across Grimm’s body. He brings his tongue across his chest, face, and then his long, slim arms. He luxuriates in their taste and texture, growing harder and harder as he thinks of how they’ll taste when he’s swallowing the Troupe Master down. 

Then, he works his way down to Grimm’s legs. The King drags his tongue up and down Grimm’s thighs, moaning as their taste fills his mouth. He even teases the slit that conceals the Master’s cock, knowing that the indignity of that would burn the Master up inside. For a moment, he pauses, and then looks up. “My, what wonderful legs you have! I saw you earlier, staring at my own. Tell me, have you realized yet how I achieved this form?”

Grimm’s mouth is gagged, but he communicates his own disgust and horror at the revelation through a sort of half-audible scream. The King grins up at his prey, and then continues, “Yes, you’ll be making a direct contribution to my form. It should really be an honor, getting to become a part of a Deity like myself.”

The Troupe Master struggles harder against the bindings containing him. No! This has to be a nightmare, or some delusion! His life, the life of a beloved and powerful Master, can’t end like this! As chub on some sadistic beings body! Fear sets in, and he kicks and struggles hard enough to almost rip the bindings. 

The fear of the Troupe Master elates the Nightmare King. “Wonderful! Your other failed ancestors reacted similarly before I devoured them, too. But no mind, it’s time for you to join them.” At this, the King drags his tongue further and further down Grimm’s body, until he’s at the points of his legs. Grimm finally manages to get the gag out of his mouth with more than a bit of trouble, and immediately starts pleading, “No, NO! Don’t do this to me! I will complete the Ritual, I swear it!” 

The King just ignores his pleading, and takes the Troupe Master’s legs in his mouth. He moans with pleased abandon as he tastes his prey’s legs, and hears his sounds of fear and resistance. As he progresses up his prey’s body, he releases the bindings as needed. When he gets to Grimm’s thighs, he can’t help but indulge himself a bit, licking and sucking at them to the embarrassment and frustration of the Master. Once more, he cries out, “Please! I’ve only done what’s best for the Troupe! There’s no reason to send me to such an uncouth end!” 

As if in response to these pathetic pleas, the King hastens his ascent up the Master’s body. Then, in one swift motion, he drops the Troupe Master down his throat. The King lets out a moan as he feels the Master drop into his belly. After taking a moment to collect himself, he says, “Now, Master. Just relax - you’ll be with your Ancestors soon enough.” 

Grimm’s composure entirely shatters as the reality of the situation dawns on him. He screams, and flails his arms and legs in all directions. The King continues speaking, stroking his belly as the Master struggles within. “Come now, Master. You were a fantastic treat, and a beloved Troupe Master. Just give in, you’ve done more than enough.” 

Troupe Master Grimm cries back in response, “FREE ME YOU FIEND! THIS- THIS IS NO WAY FOR ONE SUCH AS ME TO MEET HIS END!” 

“Ah, but it is, my friend. Countless other failed Master’s have gone the same way as you. This is my Realm, and my Troupe. You get the end that I think you should - and this is the end that I think best suits a failure such as yourself.” 

Grimm in a panic, tries to summon his fire bats, only to find he cannot conduct any magic now. He tries to form tendris with his cloak, only for them to refuse to form. He tries turning his cloak into a blade - only for its edge to be utterly blunted and dull. “What- WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY POWERS?”

The King strokes his belly, salivating as he watches the pathetic display. “Those are my powers, and you are in my realm. You ought to be grateful I let you keep them as long as you did. Keep on fighting, and I may have to speed things up a bit.” 

Grimm kicks a leg against the side of the Nightmare King’s gut, only to hear a pleased moan in response. Any anger yet remaining in the Troupe Master soon gives way to fear as the helplessness of his situation truly settles in on him. He’s going to be reduced to nothing more than chub on a Higher Being. His struggles become less pronounced and his cries more desperate. “Please! Just end this nightmare!” 

The Nightmare King, still stroking his stuffed belly, grins a jagged grin at this. “Well, if that is what you wish…”

Within moments, the Troupe Master realizes his mistake. The King’s gut immediately begins breaking him down at a rapid pace. His fear reaches new heights, and he cries out with his rapidly dwindling strength, “W-what have you done?” 

“Well, you asked to end this nightmare. So I’m doing just that! I’m using my power to speed up your end, both by sapping your stamina and hastening your digestion.” The King pokes his gut, giggling as he feels how much softer it has already become. 

Within half a minute, the Troupe Master feels that he’s on the final brink. He’s tried crying out, tried struggling, but he doesn’t have the energy or strength left to do any of that anymore. He feels the King’s body gurgling him and his life away. Dimly, he realizes that the King is going to totally consume him. Nothing shall remain, except the memories the King allows to survive. Even his soul will be reduced to nothing more than thigh fat on this sadistic King. The indignity and degradation of it all burns him up, and it’s all he can think of as he blacks out for the final time. 

The King is laying on his side when he feels Grimm’s struggles stop. He laughs as he strokes his stuffed belly. He slows down his digestion to a normal speed. Now that his insubordinate Master is dealt with, he can take his time to enjoy this. He pokes and pushes into his soft gut, playing with what’s left of Troupe Master Grimm. He reaches his hands about his belly, and squeezes, enjoying enacting yet one more indignity onto the Master. 

He rubs the sides of his belly, and pushes into the chub slowly starting to form on his gut. What a delicious treat he was! Looking up, he sees the Heart starting to pulse and pump at a faster, healthier rate. This should buy him the time he needs until a more suitable Troupe Master can complete a Ritual. 

Nightmare King Grimm keeps on playing with his gut, pushing and poking into it, for hours and hours. The King feels his gut gurgling away Grimm, turning every part of him, his very being, his very soul, into a part of his own form. His thighs and legs begin to thicken up again, as they always did when he dealt with a failed Master like that. 

Eventually, however, the King tires of waiting for his gut to deal with all of Grimm. He uses his powers to simply expedite the process. Within a few minutes, the Troupe Master is totally gurgled away, leaving the King to bask in his new body. 

He looks down at himself, and puts on a jagged grin. His gut is now back to what it is after every time he's dealt with a failed Master. It protrudes roundly from his form - a form now freshly rounded from the Grimm digested onto it. The King presses his hands lightly into his gut, grinning as he pushes into its chub. 

Looking down further, the King beams at how his legs had been thickened up by the Master. His thighs are now nearly as thick as Grimm’s midsection had been, and they chafe against one another when he tries to move them. The rest of his legs are a bit slimmer - but not by much. And he can tell that the chub extends to his ass as well - he was significantly thicker back there than when he had started. 

As the King stands up, he wobbles a bit. It’ll take him some time to get used to the weight. But he always does, after dealing with a failed Master like this. Well, this had been fun. But he had other duties he needed to attend to. Grinning sadistically, the Nightmare King opens a portal elsewhere, and steps through.


End file.
